One More Goodbye
by Ace of Gallifrey
Summary: Amy and the Doctor land briefly in Chiswick, and the Doctor catches one last glimpse of an old friend...


**Title-** One More Goodbye  
**Characters/Pairings-** 11, Amy, and the briefest sighting of the magnificent Donna Noble  
**Rating-** K+  
**Summary-** Amy and the Doctor land briefly in Chiswick, and the Doctor catches one last glimpse of an old friend...

**A/N-** I've been meaning to write this for awhile, but I didn't get around to it until just now. It's a bit odd, and I haven't a clue what the last line means, but there it is.

* * *

"But why here? There are whole galaxies worth of shops out there, and you want to come... to _Chiswick_?"

Amy grinned at him, shaking her head playfully. "You, clearly, have never been a woman," she said.

"I should hope not!" the Doctor sputtered, but Amy wasn't paying attention, talking right over him.

"We get very attached to our favorite shops, Doctor. And there's no place in this universe or any other one like Dynasty, I guarantee you."

It was a losing battle and he knew it. When Amy Pond wanted something... well, she got it. He was something of a pushover with her, and he knew it, but even if he hadn't, he suspected that she still would've managed to have her way. She reminded him, actually, of someone else he used to know. Maybe that was why he had latched onto her, and maybe that was why he let her walk right over him. Maybe it was because, with a touch of sarcasm and fiery red hair back in the TARDIS, he could pretend. Or maybe he was only thinking like this because here he was, in London, so close...

And it didn't really matter either way. That door had slammed shut when he regenerated, so he dutifully followed Amy out the door and onto the streets.

* * *

She was striding down the street in a smart pantsuit, yammering into her cell phone and gesturing wildly. He had been focused on locating Amy, who he feared had wandered off- again- and didn't see her until it was too late.

She slammed into him hard enough to knock him off-balance and send an armful of Amy's parcels spilling to the ground.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" she exclaimed. Then she returned to her phone. "Sorry Shaun. I tell you, the streets are full of loonies these days! I just got knocked about by some kid in tweed!"

And then she was off, marching on like her own personal army in and of herself. He couldn't help it- he stared after her. The packages he'd dropped lay on the ground at his feet.

"Doctor?" Amy asked, appearing suddenly at his elbow. "What happened? Who was that?"

He blinked, shook himself, and forced himself to look into eyes that weren't grey, at a girl whose hair would never be quite the right shade of red. And he sighed. "Donna Noble," he said quietly.

"Who?"

"She was... she used to be my best friend," he said.

Amy tilted her head, indicating that he should continue.

"She doesn't remember me anymore." He thought his voice might have cracked a little, and it was embarrassing. "I had to take away her memories to save her life... Not that she would recognize me anymore anyway. I've... well, I've changed rather a lot since then. It's a long story, don't want to bore you."

"Oh Doctor! That's so sad," Amy said, laying a hand gently on his shoulder.

The Doctor shook his head. "She's alive. That's what matters. She's alive and she's happy." He sighed, then clapped his hands together. "Alright, come on, that's enough shopping for one day. Back to the TARDIS!"

Amy, for once, did not argue, for which he was grateful. He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle an argumentative redhead right now; for the first time since his regeneration, he was confronted rather sharply with the mistakes of his past life, and it stung. He had so successfully avoided thinking about it, about them, about all the wonderful people he had left behind. He had buried himself in Amy Pond and her impossible life... but maybe that had been a mistake.

Regardless, whatever else he could have done, Donna's was one tragedy he could never rewrite. And with that dark thought in his head, he went away, swearing that he was going to avoid Chiswick for the rest of the twentieth century.

And under the shadows of a cafe awning just down the street, Wilfred Mott stood, staring. And then, he smiled...


End file.
